


Popcorn Ghost

by thekingslover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Misunderstandings, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: Cas wants to get a job, and Dean’s okay with that. Let him go out and have the whole human experience. He’d go crazy, anyway, just sitting around the bunker, especially having lost all his angel mojo.But then he comes home with a black eye.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 159





	Popcorn Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr [thekingslover](https://thekingslover.tumblr.com) :)

Cas wants to get a job, and Dean’s okay with that. Let him go out and have the whole human experience. He’d go crazy, anyway, just sitting around the bunker, especially having lost all his angel mojo.

They fall into a routine quickly.

Dean wakes up early to make Cas a bagged lunch. He kisses his cheek when he leaves and opens his arms for a hug when he returns. It’s all very domestic. Almost normal. You know, except for the occasional hunt now and then.

But then Cas comes home with a black eye. 

Dean’s arms, which he’d held open at the sound of the door, fall flat to his sides. His skin grows cold. His insides start to rumble, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything but the thunder of his own rage and his voice as he demands, “Give me a name.”

He goes for his jacket, throws it on. He pats down the pockets. There’s a knife, somewhere. A switchblade is all he’ll need.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas says, insistent, like he’s been saying it for a while. He takes Dean by the shoulders and holds him steady. He isn’t an angel anymore, Dean could easily break the hold. But he doesn’t. Wouldn’t. Cas’s angel strength was never what stopped him.

“A name, Cas.”

Cas looks at him flatly, like he so often does when he thinks Dean is being an idiot. “Orville Redenbacher.”

Dean pauses. He blinks. “The popcorn guy?” Some of his anger fizzles, and confusion replaces it. He died, didn’t he? And what would he be doing in a small Kansas town? Dean swallows. “Should I get the salt?”

Cas rolls his eyes, then winces. Reaching up, he gingerly presses a fingertip to the edge of the bruise. “It was an accident.”

Dean stands tense, torn between action and comfort. Confusion lingers, as does the need to punch and/or stab something.

Cas looks down. He sighs and his shoulders slump. “Human bodies are so… clumsy.”

“Wait.” The pieces are starting to click together. Maybe Dean doesn’t have to fight a popcorn ghost after all. “You… tripped?”

Cas shrugs helplessly, dodging Dean’s gaze. Dean lowers his head, trying to get into Cas’s line of sight. When Cas does finally look at him again, he’s frowning miserably, face heavy with embarrassment.

“I was stocking the popcorn. My shoe was untied,” Cas says. “I forgot… that shoes need tying.”

The last of Dean’s anger melts away. Clarity replaces it, and fondness. Cas tries so hard, every day. He was once a great warrior angel, now a feeble, fragile, regular human. To be brought low by a single shoelace…

Dean holds open his arms once more. “Bring it in, Cas.”

Cas goes eagerly, folding neatly in the safe expanse of Dean’s arms.

“Long day, huh?”

Cas nods against his shoulder. “It hurts.”

“Come on, then.” Dean leads Cas into the kitchen for a bag of ice. He presses a bag of frozen peas to Cas’s eye and kisses the opposite cheek. “Better?”

Cas nods, minutely. He glances at Dean with his uncovered eye. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I didn’t get to first base with a metal shelf, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dean says, offering humor as a way out. They don’t have to talk about this. They don’t have to talk about anything.

Cas doesn’t take the bait. “You were angry.”

Dean crosses his arms. He isn’t good at this part - talking about _feelings_. But they’ve been working on it, since they got together. Cas can’t read his soul anymore. Dean has to use words.

“I thought someone had hurt you,” Dean says. “It… I don’t…” He drags a hand down his face. “Not a great feeling, okay?”

“Are you okay?” Cas asks again, gently.

Dean lets his hand fall away. Instead, he reaches out and takes Cas’s. He laces their fingers together. “Yeah.” He checks the swelling around Cas’s eye. “That’s going to sting like a son of a bitch tomorrow.”

This time, Cas lets him change the subject. “It hurts _now_.”

“Just wait,” Dean says.

Later, he’ll hold Cas in the dark of their bedroom. He’ll pepper kisses along Cas’s neck and shoulder and admit, “It scares me to see you hurt.”

In the light of day, the words are harder to voice, so he swallows them. He presses the ice back against Cas’s skin and offers, “I can beat up the shelf for you.”

Cas’s lips twitch, an almost smile, and he shakes his head. He points to his cheek, a wordless ask for another kiss, that Dean quickly provides.

It’s good enough for now.


End file.
